


Twin Souls

by happinesssdeceit (crescenttwins)



Series: Last Words Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Soulmarks, Soulmates, Tissue Warning, Tokyo Ghoul √A Finale Spoilers, Tokyo Ghoul √A compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescenttwins/pseuds/happinesssdeceit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kaneki Ken is born, his soul mark is gentle, tucked into the curve of his right shoulder. The words whisper along his skin, adoring, and his mother kisses him, tears running down her cheeks, because thank goodness someone has listened to her prayers.  Thank goodness someone will love her little boy.</p><p>AKA my Tumblr head canons which multiplied and grew into a fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Twin Souls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806914) by [Selyka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selyka/pseuds/Selyka)
  * Inspired by [Soulmate AU headcanon on Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/109258) by happinesssdeceit. 
  * Inspired by [Soulmate AU headcanon #2](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/109261) by happinesssdeceit. 



> ANGST WARNING: Please take breaks between parts if you are experiencing any kind of distress; and let me know if there are trigger tags or warnings you would like to be added to any installment in this series. 
> 
> This is a fic based on two head canons posted on my Tumblr (happinesssdeceit), which kept calling for a full fic. Thank you for giving it a chance and letting me share this with you!

**Soulmate** /səʊl•meɪt/ _A person who is ideally suited to another, as a close friend or romantic partner. The one who is said to complete another’s existence, to suit and to balance one’s faults. It is commonly misinterpreted as ‘the other half of one’s soul’, although there has been no proof of this occurrence. More accurately, soulmates are believed to be twin souls, those conceived at the same time, and bonded because of it. The resonance that these souls experience when they are separated is what results in the appearance of soul marks on their human bodies. Engraved into the skin at birth, these are the last words that a person’s soulmate will ever say to them._

_Since these words have neither identification nor predictive value, it was decreed in article XXI of the TGR Amendment, section II, that it is illegal to document, sell, or otherwise use these soul marks for medical or personal purposes. This law was enacted soon after the Trucundy Case, wherein a nurse at C Hospital sold soul mark images of several key politicians—_

* * *

Three months before Kaneki Ken was born, his parents were told that he would be small, stunted, and that they should expect him to have health problems for the rest of his life. His mother cried, bent over her growing baby, and his father talked to the doctor about their options. The doctor told them they had to choose, and when his father looked at his wife, she told him, “I want his first name to be Ken, so he will grow to be strong, but wise enough to never hurt others.”

When they return home, it is Kaneki’s father who cries, retreating into his study, into the books and worlds that they depict. His mother lets him go, fingers her soul mark across her belly, and whispers to their unborn child. The words there are tragic, lettering rough and uneven, and she knows that the time is coming, now, when she’ll have to let go of her husband for one reason or another. She stretches her fingers across the span of her belly, whisper stories of the stars and imagines little Ken’s heart, beating healthy and strong.

When Kaneki Ken is born, his soul mark is gentle, tucked into the curve of his right shoulder. The words whisper along his skin, adoring, and she kisses him, tears running down her cheeks, because thank goodness someone has listened to her prayers.

Thank goodness, thank goodness, because his soul mark is soft, the words are loving. Someone out there loves her little boy, and will love him even after she is gone.

Thank goodness.

* * *

When Kaneki is four and they are coming back from a doctor’s appointment, a part of his mother freezes up as she grasps the door handle. She enters the house at a run, leaves Kaneki there.

On the floor, surrounded by all of the books that he loved, her husband is crumpled.

She calls an ambulance, her fingers trembling, and as they take him away, he whispers the words she has always carried with her. She sobs as she reciprocates, happy for the time they have had and terrified for the chasm that will open with his departure.

A paramedic leads Kaneki back to his mother, and he holds her fingers in his little hand, anchoring her to this world.

* * *

When Kaneki is young, he traces the words on his shoulder, asking her what it means. His mother smiles, and says, “It means someone loves you.”

She pats his head and goes to work, and when the phone lights up with his Aunt’s name, Kaneki frowns over the top of his book.

* * *

Kaneki’s mother dies, and Kaneki sits there with her ashes, surrounded by people he doesn’t know. His Aunt is there, crying fat tears and embracing him, and he curls his fingers in her clothes so that he won’t scratch out her eyes. She killed his mother, he thinks, this devil woman.

The world is dark black, and he scratches his right shoulder raw, screaming because his mother lied. No one loves him, not here; if his mother was going to leave, she should have taken him with her. _Selfish,_ he cries into this stranger’s dress, _how could she be so selfish_. Kaneki screams, bites his lip until he tastes blood, and then buries himself in his father’s library. Books are constant; books don’t lie like people will (like people do).

He boxes his sorrow into words, Times New Roman 12 point font double spaced with one inch margins, and tucks it away into a book. He throws away the romances, the comedies he had shared with his mother to make her laugh after a long day’s work. He hides them, gets rid of them. What he keeps are the tragedies, the horror and the academic texts. These books are closer to reality, Kaneki knows.

Allowing himself one whim, he slips the adventure novels into his chest of books. There has to be more out there.

His shoulder bleeds, fat drops of red onto his white shirt. His Aunt will scold him for it, and he will smile and apologize and return to his book.

She will whisper that he is a strange child.

He is ten years old.

* * *

Kaneki brings a book to school on his first day of fourth grade.

It is the middle of the class session, and everyone already has made friends.

This does not bother him.

He has been ignored for a long time, and he would not know what to do with the attention.

* * *

On the second day, everything changes. It starts after school, when he is waiting for his Aunt to pick him up. Under his new white shirt, his bandages itch, but he ignores it to keep reading.

A shadow slips over him, covering the light on his book. Kaneki curls his fingers around his book, because he has been expecting this, expecting the bullies to appear any day. He glances upwards, takes in the boy with hair the color of the sunset, and waits.

“Hey,” the kid says, “will you be my friend?” He sits down next to Kaneki, swinging his legs, and Kaneki stares at him. The boy laughs. “I’m Nagachika Hideyoshi,” he introduces, “I sit in the last row next to the window in your class.”

Kaneki looks at him. “Why?”

“Hm,” Nagachika says, the tone drawn out as he taps his chin, “because you look lonely?”

Kaneki grimaces.

“Also because you just transferred in,” Nagachika continues, “and it sucks when you have to leave all your friends behind like that, huh?”

 _I didn’t have any._ Kaneki has to bite back his automatic response. “I don’t want your pity.”

Nagachika blinks at him. “I don’t know that word. What’s ‘pity’?”

“It’s like,” Kaneki stumbles, “uh, feeling sorry for someone else.” He feels wrong-footed; he glances down only to notice that he’s shut his book and will have to find his page again later.

“Well, it’s not like that then,” Nagachika reports. “It’s more like, you seem pretty neat?” He questions Kaneki, and Kaneki shrugs, because how is he supposed to know— “yeah, that’s it. You seem neat and I want to be your friend.” He laughs. “That sounds like it could be okay, right?”

He shrugs, fiddling with his book.

“So what’s your name, by the way?” Nagachika asks.

“Uh, didn’t you hear it—“

His classmate laughs. “Yeah, but that was to the whole class. This is your intro for me! My own personal intro.”

“Oh,” Kaneki says, lips turning up slightly at the cheerful boy next to him. “Um, my name is Kaneki Ken. I like reading.”

“Nice to meet ya!”

“Nice to meet you,” he responds, and he can feel his cheeks warming. In the distance, he can hear his Aunt calling for him, so he stands up and mutters, “I’ve got to go.”

“Sure, sure.” Nagachika stands. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Kaneki smiles a little, and then pulls his bag up to start walking. “See you tomorrow.”

It’s nice, he thinks, being able to say that. He’s nearly reached his Aunt before he hears Nagachika shout again.

_“You were on page 83, by the way!”_

* * *

Nagachika tells Kaneki to call him  _Hide,_ and Kaneki nods at his friend’s bright smile.

* * *

They would never have talked about their soul marks, except that one day Hide asks Kaneki if he has one.

“Everyone has one,” Kaneki says, and highlights another line in his book. “Don’t you?”

Hide shrugs. “Yeah.” They’re sitting next to the tree in the playground, fingers tangled in the soft grass. They’re waiting for Kaneki’s Aunt, again, and Kaneki knows that Hide won’t leave him until she comes. “It’s a strange one,” Hide whispers, “all the doctors said so.”

Putting his book down, Kaneki glances at his friend. “What does that mean?”

“Hm,” Hide says, “maybe I’ll keep it a secret.”

“Hide.” Kaneki questions.

“Well, what purpose do you think they have?” Hide scratches at his stomach, still reclining against the tree.

“My mother,” Kaneki says softly, “said that they were a sign that someone loves you.” He stares at the setting sun, watches the reds and purples that overtake the bright blue sky. The stars are coming out.

“That’s nice, Kaneki.” Hide whispers.

They sit there in silence until Kaneki’s Aunt comes.

* * *

Sometimes, sometimes Kaneki will brush the words on his shoulder and believe. He is terrified, young and afraid, and he thinks sometimes that he wouldn’t exist if not tethered by the pull of this mark.

* * *

Kaneki sees Hide’s soul mark only once, when he’s sleeping over. The other boy is a heavy sleeper, tired from a day of school and play. On his abdomen, there’s a dark splotch of writing, so dark that the letters are barely distinguishable. The writing is heavy and dark, different that the careful scrawl that lines his own shoulder.

He stares at the mark, committing it to memory and thoughts; he traces the shapes and whorls with his eyes until he reads, Hide. Kaneki pulls his friend’s shirt down, covering his belly, and closes his eyes to return to sleep.

When Kaneki looks up what would make a soul mark so dark, the internet says nothing. A search of papers on the topic brings up only one, published in a tiny journal.

 _The darkness of a soul mark,_ the paper states boldly, _is predictive of the amount of time a person has left after they have heard their soulmate’s last words. Black soul marks are believed to be blessed in many old religions, because it means that the soul mate is present at death, and this is a hallmark of truly linked souls. In the case where one soulmate has a black soul mark, it is believed that the remaining soulmate will not remain long in the world after their passing._

Kaneki closes the paper, shuts his eyes, and wonders what Hide thought, if Hide knows.

* * *

“Do they really exist? Monsters that eat people…” Kaneki wonders, staring at the television. They are older now, beyond the age where stories of goblins and ghouls should frighten them.

“Must be,” Hide says, curling against the table to soak in the sunlight. His hair is shining. “I’ve heard they disguise themselves as humans and lie in wait…and then they’re suddenly there! Just like that.”

“Disguised as humans, huh…”

Hide snickers. “Hey, Kaneki, maybe you’re a ghoul!”

Silence, then Kaneki smiled, waving his pen. “If I were a ghoul, I think you would be very dead, Hide.”

Hide sits up, affecting injury, but his eyes are affectionate. “Suuuure."

* * *

There’s a beautiful woman in a cafe he likes to get coffee at, and her literary taste makes his heart pound. It’s a bit foolish, but he has never run into a fellow reader that he hated, and he just— he wants to talk to her. Hide warns him that it might not end well, but Hide worries a bit too much, in his cheerful way. His friend heads off to class, Kaneki swallows his nervousness, and his eyes flicker to her.

After they have talked, after he has wandered through dark streets with her, after she has crumpled under steel beams, after he awakens, after Nishio and Touka and Anteiku and Hinami and learning to eat— after Aogiri, Kaneki will smile when he sees Hide’s texts light up the screen of his cellphone, words friendly but worried.

He will read the texts, will save them in his memory, and will delete them to keep them from everyone else. He will smile, a tiny upturn of the lips, when Hinami asks about the texts, and he will say, “It’s nothing.”

Because it is nothing to her; Hide is something of Kaneki’s, a precious friend that he is protecting from this twisted world that slides underneath the bright days they shared. Because Hide is vulnerable ( _Nishio had shown him that, hadn’t he?_ ) but kind, someone who can remember Kaneki as he was and who will look for him even now.

Kaneki is getting used to being alone, to suffering and to falling asleep with his finger over Hide’s name in his phone.

And it would be so easy, so very easy to be selfish; but Kaneki is not going to burden Hide, not like this (never like this). Hide deserves to be happy, to fall in love and to link fingers with his dearest love. Kaneki won’t rob him of his happiness.

He doesn’t dare.

* * *

Sharp pain in his side awakens Kaneki, and he moves bleary eyes around the— around Anteiku. The smell of blood is saturating the air, and he closes his eyes, because there will have been losses today. It is only natural; but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t ache for those who’ve been lost.

The sound of pouring water forces his eyes to the dark counter, and he tracks movement across the cafe.

“It’s surprisingly hard… to make coffee, isn’t it?” A hallucination says to him, because _Hide cannot be here_ , because it isn’t—it isn’t safe here. Despite this, Kaneki’s eyes widen, drinking in the sight of this apparition, who looks different but is at the core the same, the same Hide.

“Yo, Kaneki.” Hide says, smiling soft and bright in this terrible world.

Unbidden, Hide’s name escapes from his lips. And he is waiting, waiting for this to be some ghoul out of his nightmares, ready to tear him apart at the slightest inkling of weakness. Silence meets his whimper, and Hide keeps smiling at him, and—

 _His eye, his eye—his eye._ Kaneki ducks, too late. A bloody hand covers his eye, as if Hide might not see it, see the way he’s changed. Because this is Hide, it has to be Hide, and the world is tilting. His fingers tremble where they’re cupped around his eye, because Hide sighs, and this—

This is where it ends. This is where Hide sees how ugly he has become, where the time they spent laughing together is stained.

“Kaneki,” Hide says, and he braces himself for the next words, the words he deserves— “I knew.” Kaneki glances upwards at his friend, and it’s still there, a gentle smile. “Yeah, I knew.” Hide places the cups he’s been carrying onto the table, and Kaneki can smell the coffee; it’s a little under brewed, and from the murky appearance Hide ground the beans too much.

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Hide takes a sip, and the look of surprised disgust at the drink is accompanied by a sigh. It’s too easy, to imagine that disgust turned on him, that Hide might grow to fear him or to hate him. Kaneki ducks his head again, tracking Hide through his peripheries.

Hide mutters something, says something, but Kaneki hears nothing until Hide addresses him directly. He drinks in the tones of his friend’s voice, quiet and careful with his name.

“Oh, come to think of it, Kaneki, do you remember? That time I got the crap beaten out of me by Nishio?”

Kaneki moves involuntarily, feeling the muscles in his arms and legs tighten in remembrance of that terror. A clink of a cup on the table moves Kaneki’s eyes up in time to catch Hide’s gestures.

“Yeah, to be honest, I thought I was dead. I tried playing dead to get through it, but that guy shows no mercy. Well, I guess it’s no use.” Hide smiles, nervously and voice a bit tight. Glancing out the window, Hide lets his smile slip into something more tender. “Kaneki…Thanks for going all out back then to save me.”

There’s something very tight that eases in the back of Kaneki’s neck, and he closes his eyes for a moment, struggling to regain his composure. Moisture is gathering from his eye, and he bites back a sob before dropping his hand. He meets Hide’s eyes with his own, and when Hide’s face doesn’t change, the last of the tension in his spine starts to ebb away. Hide sits down on the other side of the table, the motion stiff but with the same grace he had always had.

“When I look at the folks in Anteiku, I thought, it sure is nice how they’re all so full of life, huh? And with you among them, it kind of felt like I was the only one being left out.” Hide drops his eyes to his coffee, grasping the cup as some sort of support. “And so I…I decided to do whatever I could. But with things finally ending like this, there wasn’t anything I could do on my own, huh?”

Kaneki inhaled, wanting to correct him; because Hide did a lot for him, and it wasn’t like— but he kept quiet, because he didn’t want Hide to stop, uncertain of where their friendship would fall when that happened.

“Kaneki, don’t go taking all of this on yourself so much.” Hide mothers, meeting Kaneki’s eyes again. “That’s something you’ve always done.”

It’s so familiar, like when they were children, that Kaneki can’t help but assent. It’s a familiarity he wishes he could bathe in, keep next to his skin to remind him that in this world, Hide will always treat him the same.

Hide makes a sound, and stands, moving his hands around the table. “You know, Kaneki.” Hide’s tone turns teasing, and Kaneki can’t believe it could be this easy, “you’ve gotten pretty famous. ‘Eyepatch’, they call you!” He’s grinning, teeth showing and eyes scrunched.

Kaneki feels his lips twitch upward in response.

“You styling it up?” Hide questions, voice chipper and just as honest as always.

A laugh bubbles out of him. It feels stiff, as though he hasn’t laughed in years. His shoulders, his ribs, his lips— they all feel stiff as the sound creeps out of his mouth. As he continues, he feels like he is dropping chains, things he has carried for far too long.

But it is an illusion, as all things are. Because—

Because Hide collapses to the ground in a puddle of blood, and can’t push himself back up.

Kaneki’s throat is pulled tight, as though some force is tearing the air from the room. He can barely call his friend’s name when he sees it.

And how could he not have seen it, the terrible wound that Hide can barely cover with his hands? How long has he been smelling blood?

His friend is curled in pain, lifting his head to speak, “I screwed up… just a little bit out there…”

Kaneki catches him as he falls forward, tucking a gentle arm around him. Hide is cold, colder than he has even been and—

This can’t be the end. He presses his lips to Hide’s hair, says his name as tears start to build up. Hide rests against him, and this is it. Hide won’t be here anymore, not after this. And it’s not fair, because Hide hasn’t had the chance to fall in love, too busy chasing after Kaneki, and now he’s going to die just like this? It’s not fair.

Hide moves, and Kaneki lets go, letting him have what he wants, in this moment. Of all people, Hide deserves it, surely.

Trembling fingers grasp his right shoulder, weakly cresting the words Kaneki has traced over a thousand times, and Kaneki’s heart stutters, because _no._

_No, it can’t be._

And Hide pushes himself up, looking Kaneki in the eye, lips pulled into a smile and eyes warm.

 _No, please_ —Kaneki screams in his mind, looking at Hide’s face.

Hide breathes out, shakily.

_No._

_Please, Hide,_ Kaneki aches, _not like this._ But the words won’t come, prisoners in the cage of his throat. _I beg of you—_

His soulmate whispers, and Kaneki’s world shatters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s go home, _his mother reads, tracing the mark with the pad of her finger. Smiling, she kisses her little boy because he has someone out there, someone waiting for him, and they’ll love him so much. They’ll be his confidante, his best friend, his love in this world. And if these are the last words that they will leave to him, then his love will be fruitful, will have pains but will be worth it nevertheless, and in the end, in the end: Ken won’t suffer a painful love._

* * *

They are fifteen years old, young and Kaneki is suffering from heartbreak of his silent first love. When he realizes, Hide drags him out onto the swing set near the school where they met. Kaneki won’t know this for a while yet, but he has candy in one pocket and tissues in the other.

When Kaneki is able to breathe again, his friend kicks out, letting the swing pull him back and forth.

“Ne, Kaneki,” Hide says, swinging his feet, so reminiscent of the day they met. “Do you believe in Fate?”

Kaneki smiled. “I believe in Fate as much as I believe in Death.”

“That’s quite a bit then, huh?” Hide whistles. He is swinging, higher and higher, and he disappears against the afternoon light at times.

“Well,” Kaneki says, picking his book up, “if you don’t believe it exists, you’ll stop being afraid of it. Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” He doesn’t voice the problem with believing in Fate and Death alike, too busy enjoying his friend’s laughter and the afternoon breeze. Because if you believe in it, let it occupy the edge of your awareness— if you live your life believing it will come— you’ll let it chase you down a rabbit hole, frightened and suffocating; separated from the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Offering virtual hugs to anyone who needs them, or you can chat with me at happinesssdeceit.tumblr.com!


End file.
